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After giving me a half-hearted high five in return, Oliver smiles at me and says, “Stay here while I get you some water. OK, Lil? Don’t go anywhere.”
“Yes, sir!” I mock salute him, swaying to the music.
Oliver disappears to the bar, and I look around. This has been a wonderful night, I think to myself in a happy, drunken state. The music is great, and Oliver is here with me. What more could I ask for? As I am thinking this, I feel a pair of hands on my hips and turn around, expecting Oliver, only to be greeted by some random guy asking me to dance instead. Hmm, he seems nice. There is no harm if I dance with him while I wait for Oliver to return. I smile at him and nod, and we move clumsily together to the music—this guy is cute. In another world, one where Oliver doesn’t exist, I may have been interested in him.
In a sudden movement, Oliver appears behind my dance partner, looking at me, asking me with his eyes for permission to cut in. I give him a little nod, and he takes no time, grabbing my waist, hurrying us away from the cute guy, while pulling me closer to him at the same time. I wave an apology to the stranger as he backs away and let myself relax against Oliver, moving to the music with him. As he pulls me even closer, Oliver tucks me in under his chin and lets out a sigh. I nuzzle in, feeling secure, and I think to myself, This is where I belong.
Oliver continues to sway us from side to side, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
I lean back ever so slightly and peer up at him. “I am going to kiss you.” Oliver stops moving, his eyes flaring as he gives me an intense look, and I add, “As soon as I figure out why there are two of you.” With terrible coordination, I attempt to cover one eye and then the other to make the two versions of Oliver merge back into one, and Oliver puts his arm around my waist, guiding me off the dance floor. Feeling dizzy now, I lean into him, full of regret that our moment has passed but also struggling to stand upright.
“Do you think you will make the walk back to the hotel room?” Oliver asks, looking concerned.
“Yup,” I say, popping the p. “Let’s just wait for the room to stop spinning first.” As I look around, a little dazed, Oliver grabs a bottle of water for me from the bar and encourages me to take a sip. When I feel somewhat better, Oliver pulls me close again, his arm banded around my back, half guiding, half carrying me towards the door.
“Bye, friends!” I yell to no one in particular as we walk out.
Oliver lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head at me.
“I’m sorry, Ollie,” I tell him in a small voice once we are outside, feeling bad that he is forced to take care of me again.
“It’s OK, Lil. I’m glad you had a good night. And I love taking care of you.”
I walk in a zigzag pattern, unable to maintain a straight line, and as such, it takes longer than necessary to get back to the hotel, by which time the tequila high has worn off and things have taken a turn for the worse.
“I don’t feel so good,” I groan as we approach our room. Oliver takes one look at me and hurries us inside. We make a dash for the bathroom, where I throw up all the tequila and wine and everything I ever consumed in my entire life. And then I throw up some more. When I finally feel well enough to sit back, Oliver crouches next to me, patting my face with a wet cloth, asking if I have finished.
I nod and say in a low voice, “Oh god, I wish you hadn’t seen that,” knowing I am going to be mortified by this forever.
Oliver shushes me, picking me up and carrying me to the bed. After laying me down, he makes quick work of removing my shoes and tucking the blanket around me.
“Do you think you will be OK now?” he asks.
I groan, vowing, not for the first time, to never drink again, and say weakly, “I think so.” As I bury my head in my pillow, I pray for the sweet relief of unconsciousness to get me out of the situation. I open one eye and see Oliver is lying down next to me, watching me with a worried frown on his face.
“I have left some water next to the bed for you. Wake me up if you feel sick again.”
“OK, Ol,” I mumble. I love you, I think to myself as I slip into blissful oblivion.
CHAPTER 28
Oliver
She loves me? Is that what Lilly just mumbled before she fell asleep? She loves me? As I lie back and watch Lilly sleep, she looks so peaceful now, so different from the girl I saw attempting to line dance on top of a bar. I smile to myself at the mental picture of Lilly dancing on the bar, her face lighting up when she caught sight of me. Could this mean she has feelings for me too? It has been a weekend filled with moments of togetherness. Could it all be real? Or is Lilly that good of an actress?
I think back to this morning and stifle a groan at the thought of waking up with Lilly in my arms, wrapped around me like a little boa constrictor. She was as warm and soft as I knew she would be, and I savoured every minute, keeping as still as possible to drag the moment out. And when I felt her wake up and attempt to move away, I couldn’t resist pulling her back in for a little longer. I know I was being a coward by pretending to be asleep (so much pretending this weekend) and feigning ignorance of our morning snuggle when Lilly catapulted herself out of bed. It just seemed that that was how Lilly wanted to play it, and what Lilly wants, Lilly gets.
After spending today with her, playing the role of her boyfriend, I know now, without a doubt, that Lilly is the person I should be with. When I compare it with the time I spent with Emma, well, there is no real comparison to be made. With Lilly, I cannot stop myself from touching her. I have to be near her all the time. I am possessive and jealous, emotions I’ve never experienced before. And above all else, I am happy. So happy. And it has all happened under the guise of helping her out. At this thought, I let out a small chuckle, as I marvel at the idea that Lilly is grateful for my help this weekend. That she thinks I am doing her a favour. Lilly has no idea just how many times I have wished this relationship were real.
I look over at Lilly’s sleeping form and take her hand in mine, settling back to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. It may just be the day when Lilly and I finally stop pretending.
CHAPTER 29
Lilly
I wake up the next morning with a jackhammer pounding in my head and roll over gingerly to see Oliver asleep next to me. As I glance down, I see he is holding my hand. Sigh. I wish I did not feel like someone ran me over with a truck, a truck full of tequila no less, so I could enjoy this moment, but instead, I need to find a way to make this pounding in my brain stop. With reluctance, I let go of Oliver’s hand and sit up. Once the room stops spinning, I see that a glass of water and a bottle of Advil have been left next to the bed. So typical of Oliver, always so thoughtful. With shaking hands, I swallow two tablets and drain the glass. I stand up, swaying as I do so. How much did I drink last night? I try to remember the details of the evening, recalling the wine tasting and the bar. There was tequila. I can still taste that—and did I dance on the bar top? Flashes of images play in my mind as I make my way to the bathroom, each step causing a sharp pain in my temple. I see myself dancing—yes, indeed, that was on the bar top—then with some random guy and then with Oliver. A glimpse of me wobbling out of the door, and then, oh no, Oliver saw me throw up. Why, Lilly? Why must you do this to yourself? There is no way he can see me as a sexy grown-up potential life partner when I keep getting myself into these situations.
I notice the time and wake Oliver up from across the room, letting him know we have an hour before the wedding begins, then get started on the task of making myself look human again. I take a shower to wash off the stench of alcohol before drying my hair into soft waves, then spend some time on my make-up, trying to cover the damages of a night of partying followed by a horrendous hangover. Once I am happy that I look as good as I am going to get, I wrap a large towel around myself and leave the bathroom. As I enter the bedroom, Oliver is sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone.
